Dear Grandma Sylvia

My grandmother Sylvia on my birth mom's wedding day

Dear Grandma Sylvia,

As I was pulling a Hershey with Almonds out of my freezer and warming up some of my husband's left-over coffee in the microwave this morning, I said out loud,

"Grandma Sylvia!  Can you hear me up there?  I was a good kid! You would have liked me alot if you would have given me a chance!"

But the truth is I had about a fart's chance in a windstorm to grow up knowing you considering I was born in the middle of the Baby Scoop Era to your unmarried daughter. 

A chance to experience what your daughter describes as a wonderful childhood with her wonderful parents has left me asking "what if?"

I wonder what it would have been like to have a cool grandma.  You see, I will never know what that feels like.  Neither of my grandma's lived near me and we weren't close.  Both of my grandfathers were dead before I could meet them. 

I'm not such a bad grandchild, Sylvia.  For the most part, people like me. Sure, I've made lots of mistakes, but I try to learn from them.  I went to college.  I married the love of my life -- like your daughter.  I look like your daughter.  We have the same eyebrows. 

When I think about you and my mom looking at me through the glass at Evanston Hospital, it makes me sad that you didn't insist on holding me.  That you didn't insist your daughter hold me.  Were you afraid she might get attached and change her mind? 

I know I was an embarrassment to you back then, but I wished you would have thought further down the road how this would affect your daughter, me and my own children.  They will never know their great-grandmother, Sylvia.  Seems a shame.

You and I would have been like peas and carrots.  You loved the piano I understand.  Me too.  I have your painting hanging in my house above my piano.  When I play, I think of you and how it's sad that we will never meet face to face. 

I console myself with the thought that I can at least see part of you in the beautiful beach scene your daughter gave to me.

Are you a chocoholic too?

Your grandaughter,



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